TakeOut Boxes & Fake Names
by myloveimfaithfullyyours
Summary: Castle parted the final four boxes like Moses parted the red sea. Suddenly, he grinned, he smiled like an idiot. His toothy grin shining in the refrigerator light." takes place during 'tick, tick, tick.' light castle/beckett. one shot. please review!


A/N: Just a little idea that popped up into my head today. I don't know how realistic it is, but I thought it was a cute concept. Anyways, enjoy, and please, please, review!

disclaimer: castle is not mine; it belongs to people who have a lot more money than I do, and likely, a lot more influence. Don't sue, because I'm a broke ballerina.

_**Spoilers: Tick, tick, tick, and some of 'Nikki Heat,' the book ** _

Take-Out Boxes and Fake Names

Kate Beckett's living room would have been dead silent if not for the cautious footsteps of a man of about six feet tall slowly making his way to her kitchen. He carefully made sure that his toes hit the floor before his heels did and slowly rolled through his feet, attempting to make as little noise as possible.

As far as the man knew, he was doing pretty well considering that he was also feeling his way down the unfamiliar apartment in the dark. His hands ran lightly along the contour lines of the bookshelves and picture frames filled with pictures that his eyes could not make out.

"Ha." He exclaimed when he had finally made it into the kitchen. He continued his sneaky walk into towards the fridge, carefully feeling his way around chairs and the small, circular dining table that was pretty much the only piece of furniture in the room.

He stood in front of the fridge and paused; he listened. The kitchen was likely the most luminous room in the house when none of the lights were on. The man was suddenly reminded _Nikki Heat, _and specifically, the scene between Rook and Heat during the black out. He smiled to himself.

He imagined that the glow in the window was from just the moon shining as a giant spotlight in the sky, reflecting off the granite counters and unused pots and pans all laid out like they were being air dried, but in reality, they were just for decoration.

In soft glow of street, and headlights, one would be able to tell that standing in the kitchen was none other than Richard Castle in search of a midnight snack to eat. He waddled (yes, waddled, like a penguin) over to the fridge, and carefully, and ever so slowly pried it open.

If the night had been completely still, Detective Beckett would have most likely heard the noise and she would have already been approaching her kitchen with a gun in hand, but the night was not completely still; nights in New York City were never completely still. The kitchen was consumed by the city sounds, any warnings Castle's mischievous actions were drowned out by the sirens and car horns that usually lulled New Yorkers to sleep.

Castle grinned, standing in front of the open fridge, the light now illuminating the entire room. He bent down lower and began to sift through the countless number of take-out boxes in the fridge, in attempt to find one with food still edible in it.

Castle noticed that all the boxes had her name on them, but of course they did, how else was the Chinese take out guy going to figure out which order was hers? Castle pushed aside numerous boxes that read either 'Kate,' 'Kate Beckett' or "Beckett.' He opened each one and examined the contents. By the sixth or seventh or maybe eighth container that read, '_Thank you,'_ Castle was beginning to get frustrated. However, his hunger pushed him to continue to search for edible food.

After two or three more, Castle was wondering how often she opened the fridge to get stuff from it, and not just stuff left-overs in it, disregarding the already existing food. Castle had finally reached the back of the fridge, he had lost almost all his hope, besides, and the back of the fridge was probably the oldest and least edible food. Sadly, his growling stomach wasn't giving up; it was clinging onto whatever hope it had left of satisfying its emptiness.

Castle parted the final four boxes like Moses parted the red sea. Suddenly, he grinned, he smiled like an idiot. His toothy grin shining in the refrigerator light.

In his hands he held a box that, like the others, had_ 'Thank You,' _printed across it in fancy red lettering, but also in black permanent marker was a certain detective's name. It would have been normal, except for the last name that was scrawled after 'Kate' in messy handwriting. Instead of reading 'Kate Beckett,' the box read:

'Kate Castle.'

Castle cradled the box for moment like a valuable item and not a take-out box with two week old Indian food. He was still grinning like an idiot, but at least his hunger was gone.

End note: that green button that reads "review" makes my day, so you should click it.


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